"It's like a jungle sometimes..."

After work, I celebrated a bit too early, thinking that I would
be able to get gas, pick my son up from school, and make it to his Taekwondo
practice early enough to chill.Headed
down 47th street, just a few minutes away from the school, a police
car gets behind me.

“Shit, I hope this muthafucka don’t pull me over!”

This is what I say every time one of those black and whites
pop up out of nowhere and get behind me.I should’ve known that today was my turn again. I haven’t been pulled
over since 2012 (I think?).My average
is about 3 times per year.

Today this guy did the usual song and dance by hanging back
about half a block, while following me for a mile.I was a little nervous, but for some reason
thought today wouldn’t be my day…but it was. Before I could cross Imperial
Avenue, I got the flashing lights.

“Fuck!”

I pulled over immediately, stopped the car, and rolled down my
window. The police car pulled behind me and flashed that bright ass light into
my car to get a better view of me.Then
two cops exit the vehicle, one approaching from the driver’s side and the other
from the passenger side.Both of them
walked slowly with their hands on their guns.

“Aaaaaaaahhh shit!” I thought. “Is it about to go down…like this?”

I sat still, making sure not to move an inch.I made sure that my hands were visibly rested
on the steering wheel, hoping they wouldn’t find a reason to draw down and
shoot. I was taught early, that a coward with a gun is the most dangerous.

The officer on the passenger side stood behind my care,
while the driver approached.

“Could you turn off your car?” he said while looking inside
(hand still on his gun).

“it’s already turned off”, I said flatly.

I could tell right away that this dude was anxious, afraid,
and a rookie.How could he not know that
my car was turned off…the car was silent and the keys were in my lap? This instantly
made him ten times more dangerous.A nervous,
rookie cop, with his hand on his gun, approaching a black male wearing a white
t-shirt. This scene had "justifiable homicide" written all over it.

He gave me one of the usual scripts that I hear when I’m
pulled over, which is “your right tail light is out”. He then asked for my
drivers license, registration, and proof of insurance. I said slowly, “my
license is in my wallet, in my right pocket. Can I get it out?”

“Sure” said punk ass officer

“My registration and insurance are in my glove compartment.Can I get it?” I asked

“Sure”

I slowly open the glove compartment, pausing to show that there
is no weapon inside before grabbing my “free papers” and handing them to punk
ass.

To make a long story short, waited in my car for 10 minutes
while these dumb bastards ran my name to see if I have a criminal record, on
parole or probation, or a gang member.Of
course he came back with nothing.But instead
of giving me a fix-it ticket and sending me on my way, he found a reason to keep
me there.He pointed out that my
insurance expired last month and that I need to have proof of current
insurance.I offered to pull up my
policy on my iPhone to show him.Obviously
a rookie, he couldn’t decide whether to wait for me to pull it up, or let me go
with a citation.After realizing that I was
really pulling up my insurance policy online, he checked with the other officer
and finally let me go.All of this over a tail light?

By this time, 25 minutes had passed and I was running late.
Before he said his final words, I made long eye contact, with the intentions of
piercing his soul…letting him know that I see inside his weak ass heart. Basically, “fuck you”.

A few minutes later, my blood pressure returned to normal,
and I picked up my lil man.My first
thought was “I hope he never has to experience this”.I was so happy to see his little face. His
energy was just what I needed at the moment.He was especially mellow today, very warm and engaging.Minute by minute, I thought less about what
happened and enjoyed the presence of my son.He had an excellent day in practice and we went home.

About Me

I’m a licensed marriage & family therapist, educator, writer and proud father of a wonderful 5 year old son. I’ve spent over a decade in the counseling profession helping at-risk youth and families in San Diego. My most important role is being a father. My son is the source of most of my worries, laughs, and lessons. The Unpolished Truth is about all of the things that make us crazy, but also things that keep us alive. Consider this experience an after-hours conversation with a therapist – informative, honest, and unpolished. I believe that life has made us all crazy in one way or another. Still, we find ways to survive, and create beauty within the mess we were given.